Children of the Promise

by Dean Hughes

  “You must have married a GI,” he said.

  But this sounded like an accusation. She wondered whether there was some resentment in America for German girls who married their victors. Maybe they saw it as gold-digging, or maybe they saw it as a threat to their own girls back home, many of whom would struggle now to find a husband after so many young men had died.

  “I am married to an American. But we met before the war,” she said, and she wanted that to answer any objection, but she didn’t know exactly why it should, or why she should feel defensive.

  “So your whole family decided to come along—and leave Germany?”

  And now the accusative tone was more pronounced. What was he trying to say? “We left Germany during the war,” Anna said. “We were living in England.”

  “You’re not Jewish, are you?”

  “No.” Anna couldn’t believe such rudeness. What gave this man the right to ask so many questions? Still, she found herself wanting to justify. “We were opposed to the Nazis. We were in danger. We had to leave.”

  That seemed the right thing to say. The man nodded, glanced over to the man next to him, who had been listening to all this. “Well, that’s good to know. I’m glad some of you Germans didn’t buy into all this Hitler master race stuff.”

  Anna nodded, but she hardly liked his idea of a compliment. The very word Germans, the way he had said it, sounded like a dirty name. Anna turned back to Gene, talked to him in English, and the man didn’t ask any more questions. But after a time Peter said quietly, in German, “What if you had told that man that I fought for Hitler, that I was in the German army? Then what would he have said?”

  “Don’t say that, Peter. You were just as opposed to Hitler as the rest of us.”

  “Try to explain that to him.”

  “Peter, it doesn’t matter what other people think.”

  “Doesn’t it? People are going to ask me what I did during the war. What am I supposed to say?”

  “Don’t tell them.”

  “So it is something to be ashamed of?”

  “I don’t mean that. But you were opposed to Hitler. People understand that men have to fight for their own country. Alex didn’t hate the German soldiers, only the Nazi leaders.”

  “Not everyone is like Alex.”

  Anna didn’t know. But she didn’t think Americans would hold Peter’s past against him. Maybe a few would, but most people would accept him for who he was. Especially people in the Church would. What worried her was that Peter was so defensive, so ashamed. She feared that he would make things difficult for himself.

  By the time the Stoltzes finally reached Salt Lake City, they were very tired. Gene had only gotten more restless, more cross, as the trip had progressed, and that had been wearing on everyone. When the train finally crept to a halt at the Rio Grande station, Anna was relieved, but in those final hours she had become increasingly nervous about meeting the Thomases. She knew they were wonderful people, and she loved the letters she had received from Bea—even one from President Thomas—but still, they were such important people, and she felt so bedraggled after traveling so long. Gene was dirty after crawling about so much in the train, and Anna had used up the last of his diapers. At the moment, he needed a new one. She hoped he wasn’t too smelly, too scruffy looking to satisfy his grandparents.

  The Stoltzes gathered up all their suitcases. Peter and Brother Stoltz carried most of them, and Anna carried the baby. She stepped down from the train ahead of the others, and then she led the way from the platform into the main hall of the station. When she passed through the gate, she saw the Thomases, knew them from their pictures and their eager faces. Sister Thomas hurried to Anna, President Thomas right behind. One of the daughters was with them, but Anna couldn’t think which one she was.

  “Oh, Anna,” Sister Thomas said. She pronounced it correctly—Ahna—not the way most Americans did, and she had a wonderful face, such a loving, dimpled smile. She wrapped her arms around both Anna and Gene, grasped them tight, as if she had known them all her life. Then she stepped back and said, “Oh, little Gene, let me look at you.”

  She took the baby from Anna, but he let out a little screech and reached back for his mother.

  “Oh, it’s all right. I’m grandma,” Bea said. But Gene was stretching away from her still, and now he had begun to cry.

  Bea let him go back to his mother, and she laughed. “You’ll get to know me,” she said. “Don’t worry. You won’t be afraid of me for long. I’ll make cookies for you. We’ll play together.”

  Gene clung to his mother, however, and turned his head away. “It’s just as well for now,” Anna said. “He’s awfully wet, and I’m out of diapers.”

  But now President Thomas was reaching his arms out to Anna. “We know all about wet diapers at our house,” he said. “We’ve seen plenty in our time.” President Thomas was so much like Alex. He was heavier, his face more jowly, and his voice deeper, but he had that same jaw line, the same dark eyes. He gave Anna a squeeze, more tentative than his wife’s, and then he stepped to Brother Stoltz, who had come up alongside Anna. By now Bea was hugging Frieda, and Anna wondered whether her mother would be comfortable with that, but she was smiling and laughing.

  “We’re excited to have you here. We can’t wait to get better acquainted,” Bea was saying.

  During all this, Peter was hanging back, and so was the daughter.

  “Are you LaRue?” Anna finally asked.

  “Beverly. LaRue couldn’t come.”

  “Oh. You’re more grown up than in the last picture I saw,” Anna said. “It’s so nice to meet you at last. And this is Gene.”

  She turned him, and he looked at Beverly but still clung to his mother. “Hi, Gene,” Beverly said. “I love you. I’m your aunt.”

  Gene seemed to respond. He didn’t laugh, didn’t let go of his mother, but he looked at Beverly curiously, as though he were thinking that he might like her, in time.

  “I want you to meet my brother,” Anna said. “Come here, Peter.” He stepped forward now, and in his German manner bowed his head a little.

  “Hello,” Beverly said.

  “Very nice to meet you,” he said in English, and he shook her hand.

  Then he shook President Thomas’s hand, and Sister Thomas’s. But they seemed to know that they shouldn’t try to embrace him. “Peter,” Bea said, “we worried about you for such a long time. And we prayed for you all the time. When we got the letter from Anna and found out you were safe and well, I can’t tell you how happy we were. Our own son was a prisoner of war for such a long time—maybe you know that—so we knew how worried your parents were about you.”

  Anna wasn’t sure that Peter had picked up all the words, but she saw him melt a little under the influence of the sentiment. Peter was such a tender boy and yet so wary right now. Anna was pleased that the Thomases would make him feel so welcome.

  “Thank you,” he said, and then he smiled. “My English is not good. Not yet.”

  “It sounds wonderful to me,” President Thomas said. “I wish I spoke a little German, but I can’t say anything but auf Wiedersehen, and I think it’s the wrong time to say that.”

  Peter laughed. So did Brother and Sister Stoltz. And all of Anna’s nervousness was gone. These people were as good as Alex.

  “We brought two cars over, since we knew you’d have a lot of luggage. We thought you might like to come over to our place first and get a chance to rest for a minute. But I might as well tell you, I bought a little house awhile back, one I thought I’d end up renting out, but it’s open right now. We furnished it to some degree, although it still needs a few things. But anyway, you can live there for now. And Heinrich, as I told you in my letter, I can put you to work as soon as you like. It may not be the kind of work you want, in the long run, but it will get you started.”

  “Yes, of course. I’m happy to have any employment.”

  President Thomas looked at Peter. “You can work in my plant to
o, Peter. That offer is still open. We need to talk about all that, but I just want all of you to know that you have a place to live, and you have work if you want it. You don’t need to worry about any of those things.”

  Anna looked at her father, who seemed perplexed. “Have you understood all this?” Anna asked in German. Some of the words she hadn’t recognized.

  “Yes. Certainly.”

  “What is furnished?”

  “It must mean furniture. It’s a house for us, with furniture. How can this be?”

  “Alex told me that his father would do this.”

  But now Brother Stoltz was looking at President Thomas. “It’s too much,” he said. “If you give me a job, I will pay rent. I can’t take everything from you.”

  “I understand, Heinrich. We’ll work all that out. But for now, I want to get you off to a good start, and then I’m sure you’ll do fine. You’re a smarter man than I am, from what I understand, so I know you don’t need me to keep you going too long.”

  “No, no. This is not so. I am willing to do any kind of work. And Peter will too. We’re not proud people.”

  “Well, fine. But we’ll give you a day or two to settle in before we put you on the job.”

  “Thank you so much, sir. You must know, however, that this is only temporary. We can find our way.”

  “Oh, sure. I know that. But if you call me ‘sir’ again, I might wonder who you’re talking to. Just call me Al.”

  “But you’re President Thomas.”

  “Not anymore. And that doesn’t matter. Friends in this country call each other by their first names. And we’re more than friends—we’re relatives.” President Thomas laughed, and then he looked at Gene. “How about coming to me, little one,” he said. But Gene turned and grabbed his mother again, and everyone laughed. Then they all picked up the baggage

  and walked outside into the April air. Anna had watched the mountains from the train window, but now she stopped and looked up. “See the mountains,” she told Gene, who seemed less than interested, but her parents were in awe. They stopped and gazed over the city.

  Brother and Sister Stoltz had been less than impressed by some of the open, sagebrush-covered land of the West, but the mighty Rocky Mountains appealed to them. Anna liked

  the feel of the air, the lovely breeze. Alex had told her how hot it could be in the summer, but it was a perfect day today, with the sky deep blue above the mountains, which were still covered with snow.

  The Thomases had two beautiful cars parked outside the station, big ones with large trunks. President Thomas drove one, and Sister Thomas the other. Sister Stoltz was impressed by that—told Anna so. They drove through the wide streets of Salt Lake City, and Anna was amazed by how clean everything looked, more like pre-war Germany than the other cities they had seen in America. And then, when the Thomases parked in the driveway of their house, Anna was impressed at how large it was. And the neighborhood was so pretty, with spacious lawns in all the front yards. Alex had spoken of all this, tried to give her some idea of it, but to Anna, seeing it for herself the first time, it seemed a kind of paradise.

  Inside, the house was beautiful, with large rooms and stained glass in the front windows, even a fireplace. Anna knew it was an old house, but it was elegant, with hardwood floors, beautiful rugs, and a fancy stairway leading upstairs.

  They had only just stepped inside, however, when an older woman wearing a bright yellow dress strode toward Anna, taking steps like a man. She was holding her arms wide apart. “Oh, my little Gene,” she said. “Let me see you.”

  Gene cried out, but the woman only laughed, and she pulled the baby from Anna’s arms. “I’m your Great-Grandma Thomas,” she said, “and we won’t have any crying. I love you way too much for that.“ She walked off with Gene, as he continued to wail, but when she dropped onto the couch and started jabbering to him, he seemed rather interested, and in only half a minute or so, he had stopped his crying.

  “Babies love me,” Grandma Thomas called to Anna. “It’s not because I’m sweet. I’m kind of a mean old bat. But these kids have a way of knowing who’s going to buy them lots of toys. They’re not stupid.”

  Anna wasn’t sure she understood all that. She didn’t know what a bat meant, not a mean one anyway. But she got the part about the presents, and she laughed. She walked to the elderly man, who was standing back, quiet. He was not as large as President Thomas, but he was even more like Alex in some ways. “You must be Alex’s grandfather,” she said.

  He laughed. “I am,” he said. And he took her gently into his arms. “My goodness, you’re going to add some good traits to our family line. You’re so pretty.”

  But someone had come through the front door, and Anna heard a voice shout, “Not prettier than me, Grandpa.”

  Anna turned back to see a dark-haired young woman, and she knew that this was certainly LaRue.

  LaRue hurried to Anna and seemed ready to reach out to her, and then she stopped. “Oh, my gosh, you are prettier than me. I can’t stand it.”

  Anna assumed this was a joke of some kind, but she wasn’t entirely sure. LaRue sounded genuinely upset.

  But then she smiled, wide, and she had something of Alex in her, too, those lovely eyes and her dark eyelashes. “You’re beautiful, Anna. As pretty as the pictures.”

  “I’ve been on the train with the baby. I feel like such a mess.”

  “No, no. You’re gorgeous.” Now LaRue did embrace Anna. “I’m your sister,” she said. “I’m LaRue. I love you already. Where’s Gene?”

  “I’ve got him,” Grandma called out. “You leave him alone for now. He’s just getting used to me.”

  “She’s the only one he’s gone to so far,” Bea was saying.

  “He likes my bracelets,” Grandma said. “He hears the sound of money in them.”

  But all this was so confusing. Anna looked about at her own family, and somehow they seemed like stiff poles in the middle of all this movement, this talk, this easy flow of things. How could they ever fit in? And yet she loved it; it was all so informal, so fun, so noisy and good.

  “I want you all to relax,” Bea was saying. “Talk to everyone. Get acquainted, and I’m going to get some dinner on. Wally and Lorraine are coming over in a little while, and we’ll eat, and then we’ll take you up to your place and you can get a little peace and quiet. I’m afraid we’ve scared you half to death—all coming at you so fast.”

  “It’s good the way you are,” Frieda said. “You’re so nice to us. But let me help you. I want to do this.”

  “Good. Good. Come in the kitchen with me. That’ll give us a chance to talk a little.”

  “Is it possible that you have any diapers here?” Anna asked.

  “Oh, yes, I think so. I kept the ones that weren’t worn right out. I knew I’d need them someday.” And so she ran upstairs, and Anna took Gene. Bea found the diapers, and Anna changed him while his grandma talked to him, and he seemed to like that. When they walked back downstairs, Great-Grandma wanted him again, and Gene didn’t mind.

  When Bea and Frieda went to the kitchen, LaRue dropped onto the couch next to Grandma, with Beverly on the other side, and they entertained Gene, who had begun to laugh at them. Brother Stoltz and President Thomas had sat down at the big table in the dining room, and Anna could hear them talking about the Church, about the many members in Utah.

  “Sit down, Anna,” Beverly whispered to her. She pointed at a big chair near the couch. “We don’t mean to be impolite. We’re just excited to meet our nephew.”

  “You have such beautiful furniture,” Anna said as she sat down. “And this is such a big house.”

  “This isn’t really very big, and it’s old as the hills,” LaRue said. “Dad wants to build a new house, up in the foothills above here, but Mom keeps saying that she doesn’t want to move. We’re all waiting to see who wins that fight.”

  “It’s not really a fight,” Beverly said.

  Anna realized that Peter had remai
ned standing, caught somewhere between his father in the dining room and all the women in the living room.

  Beverly had apparently noticed at the same time. “Would you like to sit down?” she asked him.

  The only place left was at the end of the couch, next to LaRue. Anna saw how uncomfortable he was with the idea.

  “I . . .” But he obviously couldn’t think how to say what he wanted to say, and he merely pointed to the men.

  He began to turn that way when LaRue suddenly stood up. “Peter, I haven’t met you,” she said. “We’ve been hearing about you forever. Nice to meet you.”

  She stepped toward him and stuck out her hand. He shook it, bowed his head quickly.

  “Hey, that’s what Germans always do in the movies,” LaRue said. “Do you click your heels, too?”

  Peter clearly hadn’t understood, and he blushed. Anna didn’t know whether he was embarrassed that he hadn’t understood or because he had understood just enough to be conscious of the way he was acting—compared to everyone else. “Some German men still do click their heels when they shake hands,” Anna said, and she laughed. “It’s a little old-fashioned now.”

  “Oh, is it? I think it’s neat.” Then she looked back at Peter. “How’s your English?” she asked. “Have you learned much yet?”

  “A little,” he said. And then he got away, retreating to the men.

  “But Anna, you speak really well,” LaRue said. “You sound sort of British though. You’ve been hanging around with too many limeys.”

  Anna laughed because she knew that LaRue was teasing, but she wondered that LaRue would be so familiar already. It hardly seemed proper. She wasn’t sure she could be that way herself—wasn’t sure that she wanted to. But she liked LaRue, and sweet Beverly, and she even liked Grandma, who was nothing like any other elderly woman she had ever known. And before long Wally and Lorraine arrived. They were warm and kind and both embraced Anna too, and they took Gene for a time, laughing with him. Gene kept looking about to find his mother, but as long as she was within sight, he seemed quite happy with all the attention. It was as though he were saying, “This is fun. I like these people.”